


Angel's Twine

by SuperWhovinator



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Both of them are underage there's no pedo, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kid!Cas, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Other, creature!AU, creature!cas, kid!Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-21 23:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6062104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperWhovinator/pseuds/SuperWhovinator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monsters of the forest did not exist.<br/>Dean Winchester was not gullible enough to be fooled by such silly, antique stories. He was <em>mature</em>. And strong. His mother even said so.<br/>And that held true. Of course, that is, until the fateful day he found himself playing the unfortunate part of the lost wanderer... right in the middle of the arcane woods surrounding his village home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Forest

**Author's Note:**

> A light-hearted fic that's been waiting in my folder for way too long.

 

                                                            

 

 

Tales of the forests were ones passed down from generation to generation; ageless fable legends used to scare children away from wandering into the woodlands deep, dark, depths.

 

_Do not be enticed by the spirits silently calling your name at the tree’s far edge._

_Do not be led astray by those nefarious sprites preying on the explorers thirst for adventure._

_Do not be caught off guard by the wayward ogre hiding just off the set path, starving for the soft flesh of the naïve._

 

All sorts of frightening folktales were spun and warped to be told as truth to the youth of the villages, warding their eager and restless minds from straying where their elders eyes could not reach.

 

Dean Winchester however, would not be fooled by such silly antique stories. He was not some clueless child; gullible enough to fall for these ridiculous lies. He was _mature._ He was strong. And smart. His mother even said so. And he definitely did not believe in those stupid creatures that those senseless old maidens loved to speak so often about.

 

And that held strong and true. Of course, that is, until the fateful day he found himself playing the unfortunate part of the lost wanderer in the middle of the arcane ancient forests surrounding his village home.

 

*

 

“Saaaammy!” Dean, brave eleven years young Dean, cupped his hands around his mouth and called out again, voice ringing loud into the woodlands around him. “Sam, this isn’t funny anymore! Come out right now, or I swear I’ll skin your hind side myself!” He knew that he’d never be able to put any truth behind such a statement, but gods help him, he was beginning to worry. His parents would absolutely kill him if he returned home without his little brother in hand.

He’d only promised to take him into the woods as a birthday present. It was only supposed to be an hour, maybe two, at the most. Sam had always been so curious about the fairytales told at their bedside every other night. He’d been asking to enter the woods ‘just for a few minutes, _please_?!’ for years now. Their father had promised Sam that on his seventh birthday, he would take him out on his first trip into the woods. But Father was still gone on his latest hunting trip when the date came to pass. Sam had been so heartbroken.

Dean, on the other hand, had already accompanied his father on several trips outside of their villages’ walls. He honestly cherished the time he got to spend with his father, learning how to set traps and look for signs of any possible supper. He was still new to the practice, but on his latest trip, his father had praised him saying, that with a bit of hard work, Dean may have some major potential yet. Dean had never felt so proud of himself. And now he felt bad for his little brother, who hadn’t had these chances to bond with father yet, like he had. Father was always so busy, coming and going on his constant hunting trips.

Sammy had pouted, lip stuck far out and large hazel eyes filled with unshed crocodile tears, so put out and feeling so wronged by the injustice of having his birthday trip taken from him.

Really, when it came down to it, Dean hadn’t stood a chance. Sam only had to flash his big doe eyes at him discreetly throughout all of breakfast with a whispered plea between their bowed heads while their mothers’ back was turned, and he had given in. _One_ quick trip into the woods during their afternoon free time, and then they would be right back, and never speak a word of it after ever again. That was what he’d promised him. Sam had been so elated; he’d actually managed to topple Dean over with the force of his thankful hug.

Dean had told him, he _told him_ , that these creatures of myth were not real. Sam would never catch a glimpse of a travelling fairy or an errant pixie. You can’t catch something that does not exist.

And even if you could, why would you _want to?_ All of the fables spoke of bone-crunching, soul-sucking, evil, sneaky little creatures. They’d sooner snack on you than befriend you.

 

Despite his wariness over the idea of secretly sneaking his little brother into the forbidden woods, he held true to his word. Sam spent the majority of the trip pointing and touching and ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ at every little thing he could spot, asking Dean what each and everything was. Dean always had an answer, whether he actually knew or not.

 

He had taken his eyes off of his little brother for a minute- _One short minute_ \- to check that he was properly tracking their trail, and when he had turned around Sam was _gone._

The only person who they had actually told where they were going, was little Joanna Beth, who wasn’t even old enough to tell anyone of their direction if they happened to not return before sundown. The woods were forbidden to the children of the villages unless escorted by an adult. But Dean was getting older; he’d travelled the lesser paths with his father many times before. He’d been so sure that he could handle showing his eager little brother a measly bit of forest.

But now here he was, calling to a missing brother while the sun slowly drifted down below the treetops. Shadows crept in at an alarming pace, and the worst part of it all, was that in his sudden panic and haste to find Sammy, he himself had lost sight of the marked trail. He couldn’t be that far from it, but that didn’t matter if he couldn’t find Sam.

Sammy must be so terrified by now. His first trip into the woodlands and his big brother had lost him. And he still had fears of the dark and imaginary monsters. He wasn’t big and strong yet like Dean was. Because Dean was definitely too old to be scared of the dark. Or silly monsters. Way too old. Obviously.

A branch snaps somewhere in the brush behind him and Dean starts so fast that he trips over himself, falling onto the packed cool dirt beneath him. He quickly rolls over and jumps up, whirring around.

“…Sam?” His voice is so quiet that his brother probably wouldn’t be able to hear him anyways. “That you?” All he gets in response is two more branches ominously snapping in the near distance.

His breath comes quicker. Whatever it is, it sounds much too large and much too quiet to be his lost little brother. Dean turns and runs.

It might not be the best idea, some animals like to chase, but Dean can’t save his brother if he’s dead, so he runs and runs. He may not believe in the mythical creatures of tale, but he’s smart enough to understand the dangers of nature’s true predators.

It’s not long before Dean has to break, taking refuge by a large tree as he bends over and gulps air like a drowning man.

When he looks up, his heart clenches. The twilight’s sunrays barely breach through the branches of the tall trees, tinting the light in the area around him a dark auburn color, and Dean is so, so lost.

“Sam!” His voice is desperate. He’s trying to ignore the small shake that has crept into his legs and hands. He doesn’t want to admit it…

…but he’s scared. Scared for his brother and scared for himself. As much as he likes to pretend that he’s big and strong, the truth is, right now he wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around his mothers’ neck and clench his eyes tight against the safety crook of her shoulder.

Tears are welling up in his eyes and his bottom lip wobbles when a sudden warm breeze blows through his light brown hair. It’s so unexpected underneath the heavy foliage of the forest, that he gasps and tries to swallow down the panic laying right underneath his skin. Which of course, is when he swears he hears the sound of the lightest footsteps setting not far from where he stands. He stills and listens. Were they the sounds of human or beast?

At first the noise is like a chime of multiple creatures, which makes his heart jump, but then it slows and melds into the distant _thump-thump_ of a single pair of feet. Two feet, not four. It is distant and quiet but Dean can hear it. Someone is here. Someone is in the forest with him.

And yet, somehow, he knows that it is not his brother.

“Who’s there?” Dean’s voice trembles and he mentally chastises himself. Now is not the time to appear weak. He needs to be big and strong like his father taught him. He listens, muscles tensed, until he hears the quiet crunch of leaves crumbling just out of sight.

Dean takes a deep breath and raises his chin, clenching his fists tight. “Who’s out there? I’m not afraid of you! Come out and show yourself!”

Silence meets him and now his fear is being slightly tinged by anger. “Come on, you coward!” He waits with baited breath, and there! Once again the soft crunch of the forest floor sounds, too loud to be a natural predator, too hesitant to be a neutral passerby. He squints his eyes, trying to get a glimpse of his company in the waning light. He turns slowly, afraid to leave his back open to any of the dark gaps in the tree’s condensed shapes. He’s just about to turn tail and flee again, when out of the corner of his peripheral sight; he catches the barest glimpse of something that makes his heart stop.

Eyes.

About ten feet from him where the ground rises up a small steep hill, where the black edge of night is slowly creeping in through his surroundings, somebody is twisted around the back of a thick trunk of a tree, staring at him.

He’s frozen, momentarily terrified by shock. There’s a lump lodged heavily in his throat, preventing any sound from escaping his gaping mouth. Finally, a small gasp of air works its way into Dean’s lungs and it’s like his body has been unlatched. He stumbles backwards until his butt hits the hard ground. He doesn’t take his eyes away from the other’s gaze. Doesn’t dare to.

Finally, his body is getting back under his control, and he works to measure his breathing; works to hide his fear. “H-hello?”

The other doesn’t move and somehow this gives Dean strength. He vaguely notices that whoever this is…they don’t look very old. No, in fact, they look to be about Dean’s age. This brings him even more comfort and Dean sits up straighter. He’s not afraid of some other kid. “Hello? Who are you? What are you doing out here?”

From what he can see, the kid doesn’t look familiar. Maybe he’s from a neighboring village, though that’s very unlikely as they are spaced far and few apart from one another. Another thought strikes him. Maybe he’s lost too, just like he is. Dean pushes up off the ground and takes a step forward but as soon as he does, the other boy darts back behind the tree. “No, wait! Please! Don’t leave!” Dean stops and waits, breathing fast. He doesn’t want to scare him off. A terrifying moment of silence passes before another leaf crunches and Dean whips his head around as the boy peaks out from another group of trees off to the right of him. How did he manage to get over there without Dean seeing him?

Dean holds his hand out in a mimic of what he’d seen his mother do to calm and lure out frightened animals. “Hey, you don’t need to hide. I’m not gunna’ hurt you.” The boy squints his eyes at Dean, but he doesn’t retreat again, thankfully. “My name’s Dean Winchester.” He introduces himself. “Can you come out?” He voices quietly. “Please? I…I don’t want to be by myself.”

It’s very nearly pitch dark around him now, but somehow he can still easily see the other. His eyes are blue and he has dark, slightly curling hair. The boy tilts his head curiously at him and then takes a small, hesitant step forwards. Dean smiles. “There you go. See?” The boy takes another step, finally coming out of his hiding place and dean makes a sound of surprise. He’s dressed in clothes that are nothing like Dean’s ever seen before. A sheer, almost gold fabric barely clings to his skin like a sleeveless tunic and now he can make out a matching thin band of goldish-brown twine lying across his forehead. Similar looking twines wrap around one wrist and around an ankle. Now he knows that he must definitely be from another village. Perhaps one from far, far away.

“You…” The boy says hesitantly, studying Dean like he himself may be a bear in disguise. “You… should not be here.”

Dean nods quickly. “I know. I’m lost. Do you know where the closest road is?” After a few seconds the other slowly nods. Dean breathes in relief, shoulders relaxing. “Great! Could you please take me to it?”

The boys’ eyes widen in sudden alarm and he shakes his head in the negative, taking a step back towards the trees. Dean’s nearly in despair. “Please?! I can’t find my brother, and now I can’t find my way back to the village. …I’m going to be in so much trouble.” Tears well up in his eyes again and one escapes, cascading down his plump cheek. He hangs his head, muttering sadly. “I don’t know what to do…”

The strange dark haired boy bites his lip, and glances back to the deep dark forest once more, before he finally releases his grip from the safety of the bark, stepping away from the large tree. He inches forward, silently, until he stands not a foot away. “Please do not be sad.”

Dean gasps when he looks up, surprised by how close the other had gotten without him noticing. He quickly wipes at his tears with the back of his hand, sniffling.

“If…if I take you to the rock path, will you stop crying?”

Dean gives up with his hand and instead grabs his brown shirt, wiping his face with the inside of it. “M’not cryin’.” He muffles through the fabric. “But yes.” He nods and finally lowers his shirt to look clearly at the other.

Dean’s mouth falls open, damp eyes and fear momentarily forgotten. _“Woah.”_ He breathes. With every step closer this stranger has gotten, the more odd his appearance has become. Now that he stands so close, Dean can see that it’s almost like a dim light is emanating from the boy himself. Their surroundings are now draped in deep sightless shadow, but where this boy stands it is still like twilight is shining right upon him. Like he’s glowing. Dean himself is covered in damp light just from being so near and it is as comforting as it is discomforting. All at once, Dean’s young mind ties everything together in a shocking revelation. This boy is not human.

Dean stares blatantly in confused and awed wonder. “Who are you?!”

Almost timidly, the other responds. “My name is Castiel.”

Dean blinks. “No, I mean _what_ are you?”

 

Castiel looks at Dean in what almost seems is fear and then glances down at himself, assessing. “…Is it that obvious?”

Dean just nods dumbly, mouth agape.

Castiel sighs, and then squares his shoulders, putting on a brave air. He looks Dean straight in the eye and announces. “You are in my forest. You do not belong here and you need to leave.” His voice is authoritative but all it does is make Dean gape wider.

Castiel turns on the spot and begins to walk away, much to Dean’s distress. But before Dean can say anything, he calls over his shoulder, “I shall take you to the rock path and then you must never return.”

 

He stands there dumbly for a few seconds before he realizes that the _light_ is leaving him. A shiver of fear runs down his spine as he’s left in the shadows and it’s more then enough for him move forward, despite his bewilderment. Dean runs to catch up with Castiel’s quick steps. “Okay. Um, …thank you.” His response is habitual, but there is a much greater concern plaguing his every thought process. “…You never answered my question.”

 

Castiel doesn’t respond, just hops over a low laying root without looking and continues on.

 

Dean follows quietly for a few minutes, stumbling every few steps on the uneven earth. He’s wary, but there’s also an unhealthy curiosity itching underneath his skin. Eventually, he finds his voice. “Are you going to eat me?”

That gets Castiel to finally pause and he looks over his shoulder with a confused expression. “No…why would I eat you?”

“Because that’s what all the monsters do in the storybooks. They eat kids.”

Castiel looks taken aback and stricken in one movement and Dean instantly feels terrible.

“I am not…I’m not a _‘monster’_!” Dean never meant to cause such a pained and confused look and he backtracks quickly, terrified that Castiel is going to leave him for being so rude.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that! Of course you aren’t!” He bites his lip. “Well, I suppose you aren’t. It’s just that… I’ve never heard of any creatures living in the forest that _aren’t_ monsters.” He explains. He doesn’t mean to, but he can’t help the accusing tone when he asks, “So you’re obviously not a beast, and there’s no way you can convince me that you’re human, and if you’re not a monster…well then, what _are_ you?” He crosses his arms and waits pointedly.

Castiel slowly begins walking again. He glances at Dean from underneath his eyelashes a few times before he quietly voices. “If I tell you, do you promise not to tell another soul?”

Dean nods enthusiastically but Castiel doesn’t respond right away. Patience was never Dean’s strong suite. “So? What are you then?” He asks impatiently. “Are you a sprite? Or-Or a fairy?!”

Castiel looks scandalized. “I am _not_ a fairy. They are temperamental and rude.” He huffs.

Dean laughs, not understanding what ‘temperamental’ means, but pleased nonetheless at Castiel’s casual confirmation of their existence.

“I am, what I believe your people call, …a nymph.” Castiel finally drawls, watching warily for Dean’s reaction. “A woodland nymph. _This_ woodland’s nymph.”

Dean eyes him for a minute and then scoffs, absently picking a leaf off as they pass by a large bush. “There’s no such thing.”

Castiel glares at Dean, walks over, and forcibly plucks the leaf from his hand. “Obviously there is.” He puffs, letting the leaf fall to the ground. He turns and sets off at a brisk pace again. Luckily, Dean doesn’t have to worry about loosing him easily with the soft glow that he’s putting off.

“My father says there’s not. No pixies or spirits or _nymphs_ or anything. He says they’re all just stories.”

Castiel glares at him. “If you were just going to deny my existence, then why did you ask me in the first place?”

Dean shrugs. “I’ve never seen anyone or anything like you before.”

“Just because you have not seen them, does not make them any less real.”

 

Dean’s quiet again after that. His dad’s the smartest person he knows. But maybe Castiel has a point. Maybe father simply does not believe in them, because he’s never seen one. The idea sits oddly with Dean though. His father has travelled so far and so often, how would he not come across a creature from the stories if they actually existed?

 

He watches as Castiel seemingly glides over and around trees and bushes as if they’re not even there. Dean’s feet catch quite often, his only saving grace is the light that mysteriously surrounds Castiel, it’s a wonder to how smooth the other’s movements are. He talks a little weird too. More like the adults.

“Castiel?-Cas, can I call you Cas? How old are you?” Dean questions away, the dark scary forest forgotten with something so new and amazing now consuming his attention.

“I am not quite sure…but I have not been here very long.” Castiel absently ducks under a low branch and then hops across a few outcropping rocks when they come to a thin stream. Dean follows, fumbling, and at a much slower pace.

“Oh. Well, where did you come from?”

Cas stares at him for awhile, a confused expression slowly growing on his face. He looks nervously down at the ground they walk upon. “I…am not quite sure.” He repeats.

Now Dean’s the one to look confused. “You don’t know? How do you not know how old you are _or_ where you came from?”

“I do not know if I came from a place before this one. I do not remember ever being anywhere before this forest. This is my forest.” He says quietly, eyes in front of them as if he could actually see where they’re going. From what Dean can tell, they aren’t following any set path. For a moment he wonders if Cas is lost, but his steps are so sure that Dean doesn’t question him on it.

“Okay, so…” Dean’s eyebrows draw together in thought. “If you can’t remember how old you are, well then how long can you actually remember being here? Maybe I can help you figure it out.” He smiles and Cas tilts his head thoughtfully.

“I am still not quite sure. I believe I tell time differently from you. I know I was here long before your village was built.”

Dean’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “No way! That’s not possible! My great-grandfather helped build our village when he was just a child.”

Cas looks at him as if he doesn’t understand Dean’s point. “That does not change the fact that I remember when they began to tear down my forest and rebuild it with their own.” A hint of accusation colors his tone at the memory.

“But… you’re like my age!”

Cas looks down at himself appraisingly again. “That is how I seem to have appeared, yes.”

“What do you mean?” Dean whines and almost rolls his eyes. He wishes that Cas would speak more straight-forward. He almost sounds similar to the milk maidens when they try to quiz him on his studies, with every statement being nearly a riddle.

“I have many forms. I am usually one with the forest. …This is the first time I’ve taken the physical form of a human.”

Dean stops, trying to figure out what Cas is _trying_ to say. “So… you don’t usually look like that?” Cas shakes his head. Dean tries to hide the shiver of trepidation that runs down his back. So was Cas really one of the ugly, scary monsters from the tales? Was he only hiding his true form to lure Dean into a sense of safety?

“What do you usually look like?” No, Cas said he’s a nymph. Dean remembers that in the stories they were usually really pretty girls. Naked girls covered in flowers. They were supposed to help the gods or something. “Are you normally a girl?” He asks outright.

Cas gives him a squinty eyed, confused look. “…No.”

“Well then?” He asks impatiently.

“I do not understand your question… I am usually one with the forest.” He repeats, sounding slightly frustrated, yet again. “My form is one with few boundaries, one that your human eyes cannot see.” Cas says, exasperated, like _Dean_ was the one not making sense.

Dean shakes his head and scuffs the ground with his shoe. “This is too weird.”

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Dean can’t tell if he sounds indifferent or actually concerned. Dean shakes his head again.

“No…I’ve just never talked to something…someone who wasn’t human before. It’s confusing.”

Cas is quiet for a few seconds. They’ve been walking for a while now and his steps are starting to slow down. Dean hasn’t heard anything worrying around them since he met Cas, as if any scary animals from before have suddenly disappeared, and he finds that he’s not really afraid anymore now that he’s found his own personal walking lantern.

Almost timidly, Cas speaks up “If it makes you feel better…you are the first human I have ever spoken to.”

Dean’s eyebrows rise in shock. “What, really?”

“Yes. We are not supposed to.”

“’We?’ No, wait, wait a second; if human isn’t how you normally look, then you _chose_ to ...to take that shape or whatever,” Dean motions oddly to Cas’ body in confusion. “So you obviously wanted me to see you. So then, why were you hiding from me back there?”

 

Cas looks down at the ground, a hand twisting in the side of his white and gold tunic. “I should not have shown myself to you at all, but I was…curious.”

Dean rushes forward a few steps and plants himself in front of Cas so that he has to stop walking. “Curious about what?”

Cas looks away, almost bashfully, and a light blush covers his cheeks. Dean tries to catch his eyes again but Castiel makes it a point to avoid his gaze. “Of what it would be like…to converse with someone again.”

Dean purses his lips, brows furrowing. “What does ‘converse’ mean?”

Cas lightly runs his finger along the ridges of the large leaves of the floral looking bush next to them. “It means to have conversation with. …It has been a long time since I last spoke to something that was not simply creature. The others of my kind… I can no longer find them. I adore listening to all of the life around me here, but it does get lonely after awhile.” Cas still won’t look up to meet Dean’s stare.

Dean’s eyes are slowly widening with childlike concern and panic. “So, you’re lost too?! Your family’s gone?”

Cas finally looks up, frowning. “No, I am exactly where I am supposed to be.” He’s quiet for a long moment, observing Dean who stands before him carefully before he quietly says, “But the others…I suppose my ‘family’… they’ve disappeared.” Cas frowns down at the ground again, shoulders hunching in on themselves.

Dean can’t help it, he steps forward and after an awkward falter, he hugs him like he would Sammy if he was looking so sad, “Don’t worry, I’ll help you find them.” He mumbles against his shoulder.

Castiel is taken completely off guard, body stiff and eyes alarmingly wide. “Dean? …Why are you squeezing me?”

Dean pulls back just the slightest bit, confused, but then he breaks into a sudden, loud chiming laugh. “It’s a hug, silly. I’m hugging you.”

“Oh.” Though he still looks completely lost, he does slowly loose tension in Dean’s grip after a few seconds.

Dean ‘Tsks’, “You’re supposed to hug me back, Cas.”

“Oh.” Castiel repeats. Awkwardly, he slowly turns more into Dean’s hug and after a second, he raises his arms underneath Dean’s. Dean squeezes him harder in encouragement until Cas catches on and grasps lightly at his back. He doesn’t understand the custom and he’s afraid that Dean might yell at him for doing it wrong, but he is a little surprised when this foreign warm feeling slowly starts building in his chest. He doesn’t know what it is, but he finds himself gently smiling while standing in Dean’s arms.

Dean pulls back a smidge more, still keeping his arms around the nymph, so he can grin largely in Cas’ face.

Cas suddenly stills. “Did you say… that you would help me find the others?”

“Well… I can’t just let you stay here by yourself, now can I?”

He shakes his head. “I…have been by myself for a very long time...”

Dean hums and steps back, but then he squeezes the other’s shoulder reassuringly. “Well, not anymore. You have me now.”

“I do?” Cas frowns, confused. “I thought you needed to return to your village?”

Dean rolls his eyes, exasperated. “Well, yeah of course, but that doesn’t mean I can’t come back.”

Cas’ eyes widen. “You… want to come back? Into the forest?”

“I’d have to anyways. My father’s training me.” He says simply like Castiel should understand. “But now I’ve got another reason to.” He grins.

Castiel seems to be having a hard time following him. “You’re not supposed to come into the forest. Much less, when your kind is so young. Humans don’t let their young wander. It’s dangerous.”

Dean huffs. “I’m not a _child_.” Castiel gives him an incredulous look but Dean ignores it. “Besides, I won’t let the forest scare me off from seeing you again.”

Cas tilts his head perplexed. “You want to come back to… to see me again?”

Now Dean’s slightly offended. “Of course I do! Have you seen yourself? You’re probably the coolest person I’ve ever met. All the other kids are going to be so jealous when they hear how cool my new friend is.” Dean’s grin is wide and mirthful.

Cas quickly whips his head back and forth side-to-side, and lurches himself out of Dean’s grasp. “No! You cannot tell anyone that you have seen me!”

“What?” Dean looks heartbroken. “Why not?”

“I told you, I was not supposed to have even take a human form, much less speak to one.” Cas pleads, sky-blue eyes looking deep into bright green imploringly. “Please, Dean! You promised not to tell another soul.”

They stay like that for a minute, Cas anxious and Dean put out, before he finally sighs and gives in. “Okay, fine. You’re right, …I promised.” He holds out his hand, pouting, to ‘make it official’ like his father had taught him. “I won’t tell anybody about you or that you’re here.”

Cas is grateful but he looks down at Dean’s outstretched hand in confusion. There’s nothing in it and Dean doesn’t clarify what he wants Cas to do, so haltingly, he steps forward and grasps Dean’s hand with both of his and pulls it up to look at his palm closer.

Dean’s solemn look gives way to a goofy one. He snorts. “No, Cas! You’re supposed to shake it.”

Cas just looks more confused and he squints a glare down at the aforementioned hand held between both of his before rising and lowering it in a controlled rapid succession. Dean giggles and then outright cackles, his happy chime ringing loud out into the woods. Cas doesn’t understand, but he slightly smiles nonetheless.

 

 

“This is it.” Castiel stops just within the tree line. Dean squints in the dark and sure enough, the white outline of the pebbled road lays just a few feet in front of them. He looks both ways and is relieved when he can just make out the rock walls that surround his village.

“Cas, thank you! You’re the best!” He hugs the nymph again despite the lag time it takes for Cas to hug back.

All of a sudden, Dean remembers, and the smile slides right from his face. “Sam!” He forgot his brother! How could he ever forget his little brother?!

 

Dean nearly starts to hyperventilate when he looks back at the pitch black of the woods. He was the _worst_ big brother ever! Somehow in the midst of meeting a real-life bedtime-story-creature, his troubles had been forgotten, and with them, his brother. “Oh no…” Dean covers his face and sinks down to his knees, distraught. Here he was, having fun and making a new friend, and little Sammy was probably already being eaten alive.

“Dean?! What’s wrong?” Cas lowers himself to match Dean’s level, eyes wide with growing concern.

“Oh no, no, no…” He mutters miserably, shoulders quivering. He peeks up at Cas from behind his hands, bottom lip beginning to wobble again. “I left Sam! I was looking for him when you found me and I forgot! I forgot Sam!” His voice grows more and more distressed until Cas has no other option but to attempt a very messy and awkward imitation of the hugs Dean seems to enjoy so much.

“Please do not cry, Dean. Your brother is fine.”

Dean shakily shoves Cas away, irrationally upset by his comforting tone. “You don’t know that!”

Cas stumbles until he’s standing a few feet away, a wounded look upon his face. “…Yes, I do.” He mutters quietly, hands clasped anxiously in front of him.

Dean stills. Sucking in a quick breath, he looks up. “What do you mean?” He quickly stands and rushes the few steps it takes until he can grab Cas by the shoulders. He looks him straight in the eye and pleads, “What do you mean by that, Cas?”

Castiel looks at him with wide eyes, somewhere between feeling betrayed and still wanting to comfort. “I told you…this is my forest.” He starts, voice soft as if that’s the answer. “Your brother is the little one, correct? He is no longer here.”

Dean’s stomach drops for a split second. Is Cas saying that his brother is _dead_?! But then Castiel nods to the gates of his village in the distance. “He is waiting for you.” His expression is distant and he looks away when Dean releases him.

 

Dean takes a few quick steps towards home before he stops and looks back at Castiel. “Sam’s safe? Alive? You’re sure?” The Nymph just nods and that’s all Dean needs to hear before he takes off running.

 

He doesn’t know why or how Cas knows, but he has to see it with his own two eyes to make sure. He’s both terrified and hopeful that he’ll see his little brother already home, probably tucked against the side of his mother who by now would be fully prepared and amped up to give him a firm lecture and possible backside belting for being so late. He thinks that the relief of having his brother home may be worth it though.

Right before he can breach the Villages entrance however, he’s interrupted by a surprised cry. “Dean?!”

He skids to a stop and whips around, searching. From a large bush that lies right next to the village’s wall, comes a stumbling Sam. The seven year old is covered in snot and tears and he half runs, half jumps into Dean’s eager arms. “I-I c-couldn’t fin-‘ind you.” He sobs, a terrible mess, into Dean’s brown shirt. Between the two of them, the fabric has probably been reduced to a giant mucous-infested handkerchief by now.

“I know, Sammy, I know.” Dean coos in his best impression of mother, running a soothing hand through his brother’s hair. He doesn’t have the heart to yell at him for wandering off right now, not when he’s as upset as he is.

“I-I didn’t want to g-go home without you. S-So I waited.” Sam hiccups, but already the sobbing is turning into muffled crying so Dean just continues to hold him tightly.

“I know. It’s okay. I’m sorry I took so long. I was looking for you, you know.”

Sam pulls away, sniffling, and looks up at him. “You were?” Dean nods, a small smile in place, and Sam’s voice hitches again when a second wave of tears hit. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I got lost. I-I thought you weren’t coming home ‘cuz y-you got eaten by an ogre. Or a bear. Or a bear-ogre.” Dean winces and pulls his brother’s head back to his shirt. He was just messing around when he had told Sam that those were a thing.

“Well, I’m okay. I’m here now. How’d you find your way back to the village, Sammy?”

His little brother shrugs, head still buried in his armpit and answers with a muffled, “I followed the fireflies.”

“The fireflies?”

Sam nods. “Mm-hm. It was starting to get dark but the fireflies showed me the way home before it got too late.” Dean doesn’t understand how that would work but Sam swallows and leans back again. “How did _you_ get home, Dean?”

Dean’s face lights up, and he turns back towards the forest excitedly. “I got help from-!” But there’s nothing there. Nothing’s looking back at them except for the ominous darkness of the old ancient trees looming over them. Now that the brothers are standing in pale moonlight, the forest seems twice as frightening, like a physical force that the light is too petrified to breach. There is no Cas standing by the tree’s edge and Dean’s heart sinks. He hadn’t thought that he would just go and disappear.

“Help from what, Dean?” He looks down into his little brothers’ curious hazel eyes and suddenly he remembers Castiel’s plea. He remembers the promise he had made. He can’t tell another soul.

“Help from… my amazing tracking skills.” Dean grins a little too broadly, hoping that his brother won’t detect the tightness of it.

Dean feels a guilty ball of anxiety roll around in his stomach until Sam finally scoffs and rolls his eyes, though he fondly squeezes just the bit tighter around the elder’s chest. Dean feels terrible for lying to his brother. They share everything together and he knows that if Sam ever did the same, he’d feel hurt. But…

He looks once more to the dark vastness, eyes searching, examining, waiting, …but nothing happens. All he sees is dark and all he hears is the trees ruffling from the wind and the chirps of distant cicadas and frogs. If it weren’t for the fact that he was standing back home, little brother held safely in his arms, he would think that he had imagined the whole thing in his head.

Yes, he thinks, this is one secret that he will definitely be keeping to himself. If not for him, than for Cas.

“Come on, Sam. If we’re any later, mom will probably disown us.”

He turns, little brother sniffling under his arm, and laughs when Sam returns a petulant “No, she won’t. Don’t be stupid, Dean.”

 

 

 

 


	2. A Meekly Mutt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The speaking-style isn't really congruent all of the time. At some points Dean is purposely written speaking in a more-modern tone. Sometimes it's not.  
> 

All in all, Dean had taken full blame for their tardiness _and_ had managed to get away with only a stern lecture. Somehow, he’d talked Sam into continuing the lie that they hadn’t snuck out of the village and had instead just lost track of time while playing. It wouldn’t have been the first time, but it definitely was the latest they’d ever returned, so their mother had bought it. She’d finished her firm and shame-inducing lecture with a threat of _‘you’re father will be hearing about this when he returns, Dean Winchester!’_

And while that was terrifying enough on its own, his father may not return for another few weeks, possibly even months, so Dean felt like he could have had it worse. For the next week, his mother had kept a critical eye on them while they both did extra chores around the house. But when it came down to it, Mary Winchester was a lenient and kind woman. Only two weeks after the incident, Sam and Dean had found themselves free kids, once again, their lectures long forgotten. 

 

Now, just over three weeks since the incident, Dean has finally found a day where he had no chores to attend to and Sam was much too busy with his lessons to follow him around. Dean officially had a free day to do whatever he pleased with. And he knew exactly how he would spend it.

 

He hefted and resituated the tied sack on his shoulder and inconspicuously glanced around again. When he made sure that no one was watching, he made his dash over the back wall of the village. 

He shouldn’t be doing this. Now he would be in twice the amount of trouble if he were to be caught, but yet here he still was, sneaking out to where he certainly did not belong. 

It was broad daylight this time though, and he’d made sure to wait until just after lunch so his mother wouldn’t have reason to come searching for him. Dean Winchester made his way out into the wide surrounding forest. 

 

He brought ripped shreds of a red blanket that he knew wouldn’t be missed with him and carefully tied small strips of it to low hanging branches as he went, hoping they were just out of the way enough that they wouldn’t automatically catch a wondering eye. 

He doesn’t know what trail to take or which direction to head in, so he just walks straight, hoping that it would lead him somewhere near where he had ended up those few weeks ago. 

He walked for twenty minutes, forty minutes, an hour, before he came across a small, thin running stream. He smiles broadly, proud with himself for finding something reminiscent of his last trip. There aren’t any stones particularly protruding from the water however, so he knows that it can’t be the same spot that he had crossed before. He glances up and down the stream, but nothing really sticks out to him. “Hello?” He calls out and waits. Nothing happens.

 

He sighs and continues on, changing directions to walk alongside the water. He keeps an eye out on the forest around him, but mostly he busies himself with picking up stones and skipping them up-stream. They can’t go far, but he cheers when he gets one to jump across the water a grand total of four times. His cheering is cut short though when something up ahead of him splashes into the water, out of tune with his throwing-rocks. 

He glances up, excited, and runs forward before he catches sight of a small dog standing still on the other side of the water. He slows to a disappointed stop. He think’s it may be a coyote. Dean stares at it and it stares back, frozen-still. Dean takes a slow step forward, wanting to pass it by without interrupting its drink from the stream. “Hey, doggy, doggy. It’s okay. Just passin’ through, you mangy mutt.” He hums quietly, chuckling a little to himself. The dog’s maul pulls back, and it starts growling, teeth quivering. Dean stops and pulls back. 

He’s not really that scared of one lone little hound. He knows that they aren’t to be messed with, but they come by the village all the time and are always chased away easily by some loud yelling and banging from the adults. Dean’s only eleven but the mutt barely comes to his thigh, it’s so little. He’s totally planning on taking a few steps back before giving it a wide birth of space on his trip up the stream, but his plans come to a halt when a second dog slowly prowls out from the brush behind the first. A third one comes out a little lower along the bank, closer to Dean and he gulps. 

He inches back, a shiver running up his neck when they inch forward in return. “Hey, go away!” He shouts, and waves an arm as high as he can above his head. They all duck, and then two of them are growling angrily back at him. The third, prances away, but it’s going farther down the bank and now Dean’s worried about being able to keep an eye on all three. “Rah!” He shouts, as loud and deep as he can, and one of the two upstream jumps back into the bushes. He takes wide steps backwards, trying to stay standing tall without losing sight of any of them. When he gets close to the tree line however, he trips backwards over a root and falls. 

He scrambles up, only affording the dogs a few seconds without his gaze but by the time he looks up, he only sees the tail of the third disappearing into the bushes. “Yeah, that’s right! Run, you cowards!” He stumbles back once or twice more, but keeps his footing enough to remain upright, glancing in front and behind him as he quickly tries to get out of there. As he’s checking behind him, he hears something run by in the bushes in front of his feet and he jumps. 

They’re not leaving; they’re regrouping. “Shit.” Dean throws a piece of red cloth on the ground and runs. His heart skips when he hears the pads of their feet running behind and around him. 

Something with teeth jumps out, nipping at his leg, and he turns and kicks with as much force as he can manage in mid-step. A satisfying yowl comes from the mutt as it turns and ducks away and Dean takes its lead, heading the opposite way. He blindly reaches in his bag and throws out another strip of cloth. 

There’s growling and snarling in the woods around him and okay, wow, that sounds like more then just three itty bitty mutts. He picks up his pace, knowing that they’re faster than him, but thankful that they all don’t seem to be actively attacking him. The thought strikes him that they may just be waiting for him to tire out and he groans. Why does he always have the worst luck?

He jumps up a small hill and runs past a group of particularly thick tree’s before he spots a lone group of boulders in the distance, sitting in a small ray of light amongst the shade of the woods. It doesn’t take long before he reaches them and he throws himself up onto the lowest laying rock and scrabbles to shift onto the large one beside it. A few of the dogs prowl out from the cover of the leaves and growl at him from the tree line. 

The only way any of those stupid mongrels would be able to reach him up on the tall boulder is if they first jump onto the smaller one beside it first and Dean leans back in relief, breathless. They can’t get to him for the moment without receiving a snout-full of Dean’s boot. “Yeah, what are …you going to do…now, huh?” He pants out, grinning. “Not so tough down there, are you?” He picks up a pebble next to him and tosses it at the nearest one. “Get out of here, flea-bag!” 

He doesn’t know what he’s going to do when it’s time to leave, but Dean is living in the moment, and for now, this moment is his. 

 

He can’t keep track of how long he sits there waiting for the stupid dogs to leave because the sun is lying just out of sight, blocked by the tall trees. It seems like only half an hour or so passes though, when suddenly the four mutts in sight stand at attention in near unison. Dean holds his breath and stares on as their hackles begin to rise and they begin growling again and sniffing at the air. 

Then they all simply…stop. He is completely lost when, together as a group, they all turn and dash away. He’s nervous that maybe they can sense something that he can’t and he looks in the opposite direction that they ran in, eyes wary of any new coming beasts. He has a small amount of food in his pack and he is _definitely_ prepared to throw it as a distraction if a bear comes barreling out of the woods. 

He holds his breath, laying out as low to the pale rock as he possibly can, though it’s a useless tactic because he doesn’t stand a chance of blending in with it, and he waits. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting. A bear? A larger pack of wolves? Attack of the mysterious helpful fireflies? 

 

What he is _not_ expecting is a soft hand to gently grasp his shoulder from behind. “Hello, Dean.” 

“Oh- _mighty gods, what the seven hells-_!!” He screams the in-grained epithet and practically _flies_ off of the rock in surprise. 

He lands hard on his back with a whooshed “oomph!” and his pack rolls away across the grass and dead leaves. He pants harshly, ignoring the dull ache in his hip, and stares up at the wide, blue eyes gazing back down at him. 

“Cas, what the hells, man? You can’t do that!” He bellows, in what is shamefully close to a whine, and falls limp against the earth below him. He’s still trying to reel his wayward heart back into his chest cavity when he notices the nymph’s slow head-tilt above him. 

 

Castiel’s curious expression morphs into a stony, disapproving one. “…What exactly can I _not_ do, Dean?” The nymph asks, and if Dean didn’t know better, he would say that there was something akin to anger in his voice.

“Sneak up on me like that! Where did you even _come_ from?” 

Cas’ squints down at him, actually more than a little intimidating with his high perch from above. He leans closer to the edge of the steep boulder, lips pressed into an unhappy, flat line. “This is my forest. I may ‘sneak’ wherever I please.” The assertive tone coming from the small body leaves Dean with the quick reminder that Castiel is something _other_ , and apparently not just another kid playing around in the woods.

Dean sighs and drags himself up into a sitting position, rubbing at his sore backside. “Yeah, okay, fine. You have a point. But that was creepy.” 

Cas stands up, and the gold-ish tint of the twine wrapped around his forehead glints in the sun’s rays, before he jumps and lands unnaturally graceful next to where Dean is sprawled. He slowly walks over and picks up Dean’s sack before he finally approaches the human. Cas nearly thrusts the pack right into Dean’s face. “What are you doing here, Dean?” He calmly scowls.

Dean’s a little taken aback with the unwelcome attitude. He accepts his pack and stares up at the other for a minute before he hesitantly replies. “I…was looking for you, Cas.” 

“Why?” A confused and accusatory tone colors his words. “I told you that once I brought you to the rock-path you were to never return. Now here you are, yet again, disrupting my lands.” 

Dean gapes up at him and quickly stands up to look him in the eye. “That was before you told me about your family. I said I wasn’t going to leave you here all alone and I meant it!” He can’t help that he begins to almost shout, but he travelled a long way, risked getting in trouble again, and almost got _eaten_ by rabid dogs, all to see his new not-so-mythical friend. The least he could do is be a little grateful. 

 

Cas steps back and honestly by this point Dean’s starting to wonder if he just has weak neck muscles because that stupid confused face is tilting again. “Dean…I told you, I have been alone for a fairly long time. You do not need to keep me company.” He purposefully glances around them and then brings his eyes back to meet Dean’, adding, “And… you do not belong in here. It is dangerous.”

 

Dean huffs and, not knowing what else to do, he casually opens his sack and pulls out an apple. “What? Are you talking about those mangy mutts back there? Please, I had it all under control.” He’s all suave when he bites a large chunk out of the juicy fruit and tries to ignore the unimpressed flat stare of the nymph. Then a realization strikes him and Dean’s choking on the mush in his mouth. He coughs, spitting out onto the ground before he turns to Cas with wide eyes. 

“Was-was that you? Were you the reason those coyotes ran off with their tails tucked between their legs?!” 

A slight blush dusts the nymph’s cheeks and any chance Cas had at intimidating the human into leaving is lost when he glances away, shyly.

Dean ‘whoops!’ and slings an arm around Castiel’s shoulders, pulling him in close. “Holy seven hells, Cas! That is awesome!” 

Cas just ducks his head; face aflame, but the corner of his lips twitch up in a hesitant smile underneath the other’s praise. Dean leans forward until he can meet Cas’ eyes again. With their foreheads almost touching, he grins and murmurs, “You really are awesome, aren’t you?” Any residual anger seems to disappear for the moment and Dean’s happy to see that perhaps the near-friendly creature he’d talked to a few weeks ago is still there underneath the withdrawn façade. He squeezes his arm just the bit tighter around the nymph’s shoulders. 

The boys stand there softly smiling at each other for a few minutes until Castiel looks away and around them. Dean doesn’t know whom Cas could be looking for, because for all he knows, they are the only two beings around for miles. Nevertheless, when Castiel leans in conspiratorially, Dean mimics him. Cas whispers, “Do you _really_ want to see something ‘awesome’, Dean?” A sly, insecure smirk is pulling on his lips as he waits eagerly for his reply. He doesn’t remark on the nymph’s sudden mood change, just happy to see the pleasant look on the others face. Dean can’t do anything but grin back.

“Do you really need me to answer that, Cas?”


	3. Chapter 3

“Dang it, Cas! Where in the hells are we going?” Dean grunts and bats wildly when a branch swings back to smack him in the face.

“It is not far now. We would be there already if you would stop complaining and move faster.” Exasperated, Castiel sighs a few feet ahead of him. 

They’ve been travelling for a while now and the shrubs are getting heavier and the shorter branches of the trees bunch up thicker around them. Cas seems to glide through all the foliage as if they instead were made of water but Dean’s having a much harder time. The long grass-like plants are giving him small knicks along his arms and legs and sweat is beginning to drench his back. 

He’d be annoyed by how easy-going Cas was about it all, if it wasn’t for the excitement lacing his every other word. Dean can see the anticipation that dances across his face each time the nymph glances back towards him. The stupidly nimble nymph wasn’t even breathing hard, his _white_ and gold tunic didn’t carry a single smudge of dirt, and that thin headband of gold twine still sits perfectly aligned upon that unblemished pale forehead. 

“Finally!” Dean wheezes, falling forward when there’s suddenly a break in the endless bush. He was still young, he had no excuse for sounding like an old geezer with a thrown-out back, but that trek was hard, damn it. 

 

He takes a second, kneeling down on hands and knee’s to catch his breath, before he sits up with a grunt and tiredly swipes a hand through his damp hair. Um, _ew._ He wipes his now drenched hand off on the leg of his pants, making a few disgusted gagging sounds as he does so. 

“Um, …Dean?” He glances up, and the nymph is looking down at him with the most quizzical expression he’s ever seen. Like somehow _he_ was the enigma between the two. 

“Yeah?” 

Cas opens his mouth. And then closes it. Something like disappointment colors his features before he tries to cover it. “Nothing. I suppose… I just thought that perhaps you would be more impressed.” 

“Impressed?...With wha-? Oh!” Dean’s words leave him. 

Sitting right behind Castiel is one of the most beautiful sights he’s ever seen. Which granted, may not be saying much considering that Dean’s only ever lived in his small village or travelled on short hunts with his father, but still, this…he knows this would fall under the category of ‘spectacular’, no matter who was seeing it. 

Dean assumes it’s far upstream from where Dean walked along the thin waters’ edge, but here in front of them is a small pool of crystal-clear shining water. On the other side of the pool, the ground rises; tall rocks piled high to where a small, slow running waterfall cascades down into the lagoon-like body. It’s amazing.

“Cas, this is amazing!” He breathes, telling him so. He stands up, too impressed to remember to wipe the dirt from his clothes. “It’s beautiful!” He exclaims louder. 

He looks over just in time to see Cas duck his head again, a small, pleased smile gracing his lips. He glances back up to the human, sky-blue eyes glinting underneath his eyelashes. “I am glad you find it so.” He says, almost shyly. 

“How’d you even find this place?” The beautiful scene is so walled off by the tall thick underbrush; Dean knows that he would never have found such a place on his own.

Castiel’s confused again. “I did not ‘find’ it. I have always known that it is here.” 

Dean doesn’t respond, just taking his word for it. He walks to the water’s edge, toes off his shoes, and tests the water. It’s luke-warm, just slightly heated by the sun’s rays where they stretch down through the break in the trees. The water’s so clear that he wouldn’t be surprised if, what appears to be only a few feet, may actually be a very, very deep pool. 

“There once was a water nymph…I suppose you could say she was like my sister. …This was her favorite place to reside. We would meet here routinely to play.” Cas is staring at the scene with a reminiscent look and Dean’s young heart clenches. He’s never known someone who looks so young, to look so grown-up-ishly sad. 

He walks over and grabs Cas’ hand, breaking him from whatever thoughts the other was in, and lightly pulls him to the waters edge. He grins. “Wanna’ go swimming, Cas?” 

Castiel frowns. “To where?”

Dean chuckles. “Where? Just for fun, Cas! Come on!” He grins and starts pulling off his clothes. When he gets to his undergarments, he pauses. “You sure you’re not secretly a girl nymph?” He asks again, just to make sure. 

Cas glares at him, a small pout pulling at his face. “No, I am not. Though technically I am not really a male either. I am-“

“Yeah, yeah, ‘one with the forest’ or whatever. Come on!” He finishes undressing until he’s bare, satisfied enough with Cas’ answer and then canon-balls in. He was right, his feet do not touch the bottom and it takes him a few seconds to paddle back up to the top. When he breaks the surface, it’s to see Cas dripping wet and petulantly glaring at him. Dean laughs and then splashes the nymph again just for good measure. 

Cas huffs, but starts pulling his sheer tunic above his head. He patiently walks over and drapes it across a boulder in the sun to dry before he turns his attention back to the human whose dipping up and down through the water. Dean twists around to face him, dogpaddling in place and grinning from ear to ear. “This is so cool! I don’t even think our drinking water is this pure in the village.”

Cas takes a few steps in until the water reaches his knee’s, just short of the drop off, and sit’s down, wrapping his arms around his legs. He watches as Dean swims back and forth from one side of the pool to the other, entertained with observing the humans’ happiness with a place that he has long-since become accustomed to. 

 

Eventually, Dean seems to get bored with playing by himself and he swims over to where he can grab onto the rocks edge where Castiel rests. He folds his arms in front of him and kicks mindlessly at the water behind, humming happily. 

“Thanks for bringing me here, Cas.” The nymph just smiles politely in return. “What’s wrong? Don’t wanna get wet?”

“You have already gotten me wet, Dean.”

He rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. Come _on_ , it’ll be fun.”

“I don’t see how-“

“Well, you’ll never see from up there!” Dean interrupts him. A suddenly devious grin overtakes his features and he slinks his way closer.

The unsuspecting nymph watches curiously as Dean slowly reaches out until his hand snakes its way around his ankle. Castiel only realizes what’s happening when it’s already too late and he’s yanked forward into the depths of the pool. 

He breaks surface, spluttering and indignant. His frown slides away though when he hears Dean’s gleeful cackle. 

“That was not very nice, Dean.” To Dean’s great amusement, the gold headband finally sits askew. 

“No?” Dean smiles wider and then shoots forward, grabbing Cas’ head and dunking him under the water. He quickly swims away, laughing widely when Cas finally gives chase. 

 

They play for a long while, water splashing and sun beating brightly down upon them. Castiel follows Dean’s lead and slowly grows accustomed to Dean’s lighthearted and childish antics. Dean thoroughly takes advantage of Castiel’s naivety in their games, but feels a small sense of pride whenever the nymph starts to noticeably catch on to the customs of the various playful activities. Before he knows it, Castiel is dominating him at every form of tag and Dean has to start making up new ‘rules’ just to keep up. 

The hottest hours of the mid-afternoon day soon start to slip away. When Dean finally pulls himself up onto the dry rocks beside the waterfall and sprawls across them, Castiel follows suit and joins him on dry land. 

“This is the best day ever.” Dean murmurs, eyes closed and head tilted up to the sky. His pink cheeks from exertion are slowly being replaced by ones from sunburn, and Castiel knows Dean may regret staying out for so long later. 

“Surely, it is not your _best_ day ever?” Castiel quietly asks, staring down curiously at the young freckled face. 

Dean peaks an eye open to look at him, the green color gleaming brightly in the sunlight, and smiles. “No, it definitely is. I’ve never been somewhere so cool and Sammy isn’t nearly as much fun to mess with.” He reaches up and playfully pushes at Cas’ shoulder. Cas’ smile grows.

“Then perhaps you and I could return again one day? Together?” Even Dean can tell that he’s trying hard not to sound too hopeful. 

Dean sits up and dangles his feet over the rock he rests upon. “I would love to, Cas. I really, really would.”

 

They sit there quietly for a while more, enjoying each other’s company and listening to the water quietly rushing below them. Eventually a shiver runs through Dean and he wraps his arms around himself, staving off the cooling weather. He’s not ready to leave just yet. 

 

Castiel hesitantly reaches forward and very lightly places two fingers to Dean’s forehead. Dean waits curiously, eyes goofily crossed from where they look at the contact, and after a few moments he is shocked when he feels a warm feeling run through his body. It starts from somewhere in his stomach and branches out until any trace of the shivers are gone and he’s left with a pleasant tingling in his chest. 

“ _Woah_. How did you do that Cas?” 

The nymph just shrugs, hand falling back down to his lap. “I do not know. I just did.”

Cas meets Dean’s amazed and wondrous gaze for a minute before he slowly glances back down below them. Shyly, he whispers, “Watch this, Dean.” 

He gracefully slides off the rock until he sits on one much closer to the pool’s edge. He reaches out an arm and tenderly rests his hand on the waters’ surface, just light enough that his fingers don’t sink under. He glances up just once, to make sure Dean’s eyes are still on him, and then looks down and begins to concentrate.

Dean watches silently. At first, nothing happens. Castiel just sits there, arm still and poised and Dean wonders what he’s supposed to be looking for. 

After awhile something flashes in his peripheral, just barely, in the water and Dean drags his gaze away from the nymph to try to figure out what it is.

The water’s clear but after another minute, something flashes again. He thinks that perhaps some fish have returned and the sun is glinting off of their scales, but upon further inspection he sees none. Something flashes once more and now he suspects that it may be the colorful rocks at the bottom of the pool reflecting, but then whatever it is that’s flashing, moves. Moves, as in, _glides_ across the bottom’s floor. 

Dean gasps and edge’s closer, trying to get a better look. Several more _somethings_ move, flickering in and out of sight as they shift and sink down through the water.

Then, there are suddenly ten, twenty, thirty of them. Somehow the pool seems to shine even brighter in the afternoon day and Dean realizes that nothing is causing the pool’s water to twinkle. There are actual small _spheres_ of gleaming light sparkling everywhere. 

Dean can’t help the sharp exhale of wonder excitement that leaves him. The balls of light seem to rise, slowly circling until they lay just below the surface. And then they rise even _higher_. 

“Oh merciful _gods_ …” Dean breathes in awe, the lights rising and circling in the air right in front of him. “What are they?” his voice is barely a whisper, afraid of scaring the mysterious things away.

“Well, they are most definitely not from the gods.” Cas murmurs, a small reflective smile on his face. His hand rises from the water, fingers stretched out wide, and flicks his wrist. The lights scatter, falling before and around Dean and across the waters edge before Cas raises his arm again and they regroup before them. 

Dean can’t do anything but squeak in surprise and stare with mouth agape. This is wonderful. Awe-inspiring. Breath-taking. 

Cas twirls his hand slowly, and the lights slowly mimic him, a slow whirlwind of swirling light rising above them.

“You…you’re controlling them!”

Cas nods. “Yes. They are mine to command.” Dean shuffles closer to watch the nymph angle his fingers to and thro. 

He enjoys the show, ‘oohing’ and ‘ah-ing’ whenever they do any particularly neat sequences of interweaving movements. They look like…

Dean stops short. He turns surprised eyes to Cas. “The fireflies. That was you!”

Cas tilts his head curiously at the human. Dean clarifies. “My brother. He said that fireflies showed him the way back home. But they weren’t fireflies though, were they?”

Cas smiles slightly and lets his hand drop back down to his lap. The lights above them suddenly still and then fall down around them, melding into the earth and disappearing without a trace. The same pleasant warm sensation Dean had felt earlier buzzes just underneath his skin wherever they land upon him. “He was not far from your village’s edge. It was not hard to show him the way.” 

Dean chuckles and shakes his head. “You know, Sam snuck into my bed the night I met you and said that, at first, he was really scared when he saw them. He was afraid that sprites had come to trick him and lead him even further into the forest. But when he found himself back at the village, he knew that they just _couldn’t_ be sprites, so instead they must be fireflies.” 

Cas hums quietly. “I am glad that you both made it back safely. But you should still be careful. Sprites are creatures that do often appear as light and I’ve spotted them around these parts a time or two before.” 

“Really? Like you’ve actually seen them?”

Castiel nods mutely. “Balthazar used to enjoy chasing them…” He draws his knees up to his chest and rests his chin on them. That sad smile from before starts to creep onto his features as he says, “Gabriel disliked them though. He said that any self-respecting Nymph should not share their lands with the likes of ‘shady, double –crossing traitors’, as he called them. I always had a feeling that there was a backstory to his disgruntlement but I never had the chance to hear what it may be.”

Dean frowns. He really hates seeing that lost look on his friends face. “Cas?...”

“Hmm?”

He takes a deep breath and forces the question out. “What happened to your family? Where did they go?”

Castiel looks away from him, drawing his knees tighter to his chest. “I told you, they disappeared. I am not sure when, the years blend together so easily when you are not in physical form, but I remember that their voices began to slowly grow more and more quiet… until one day, I just realized that they were all gone. I was by myself.” The melancholy tone only gets worse with, “This forest used to ring, they sang so loud.” 

Dean’s heart clenches. “…I’m sorry.” And for the first time in his young life, he suddenly understands why his father had told him once that sometimes saying ‘sorry’ means nothing at all. The words feel useless on his tongue and it upsets him that he doesn’t know what else he could possibly say to comfort his friend.

Cas shrugs, still not looking at him. “It is not your fault, Dean. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I know, but… I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this must have been for you. I don’t know what I would do if I ever lost my family. Mom, Dad, Sammy… they’re my everything.” His stomach hurts even thinking about it. He shuffles closer until he can rest a gentle hand on the Nymph’s shoulder. He waits patiently until Castiel finally turns his eyes back to his. “You need to think back, Cas. You must’ve noticed something, anything, before they were all gone.”

Castiel stares at him for a minute before his gaze drops, thinking. Slowly, he shakes his head. “No, nothing comes to mind.”

Dean huffs a little, frustrated. “Please Cas, think _harder_. I want to help you find them, I really do…but you’re the only one who would have any sort of clue as to where to even begin searching for them. Give me _something_ to work with here.”

Castiel’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He’s all wide-eyed and lost as he thinks back to his memories. “I feel as if I should remember, but it has been so long...maybe…perhaps…” 

Dean nods in encouragement. “Yeah, Cas?”

Castiel shakes his head with an exhale, “I think I remember some of the others disobeying Michael not long before they began to disappear? … He was an elemental Nymph, a very powerful and old one, and he would lay down rules for us to follow and for the most part his orders were always obeyed. But I do know that some of the others often grew bored and eventually, his orders once went unheard.”

“Yeah?” Dean smiles gently, eyes eager. “What kind of rules?”

He looks at Dean and rubs at his shoulder guiltily. “Well,… the night I met you, do you remember my telling you that I should not have shown myself at all?”

Dean nods and then his eyes widen. “Wait, _that’s_ the rule they broke?” 

Castiel nods gloomily. “I am not sure if it is related at all, but that was Michael’s first and foremost rule. He wanted us to stay away from the humans when they first began to appear. To give them a wide berth, even as they encroached on our homelands.” Castiel bites on his lip for a second, a small furrow appearing between his eyebrows. “I am not sure why, but he was certain that the humans would bring nothing but trouble if they were made aware of our presence. He spoke once of losing a fellow Nymph, his closest friend, to them while traveling. But nobody had ever seen this other before, so it was supposed that he was perhaps lying and only saying so to better scare us into following his rule.”

Dean stays quiet, listening intently to Castiel even as he notices the sun slowly beginning to descend upon the treetops. He would have to leave soon if he didn’t want to experience his mother’s wrath again. 

“But the others grew curious as the humans travelled closer, and they soon complained of boredom, tired of only being with each other. My last clear memory of Michael is one of him arguing with Gabriel. Gabriel was the one most guilty of testing Michael’s patience. He’d disappeared once, for a short while, and when he returned, he boasted proudly of conversing with the humans. He spoke freely of his travels and of how interesting the humans were. Of how much fun he had had. …Michael was furious.” 

Castiel hums at the memory. “I had never heard Michael so angry before. I think he left of his own free will soon after their fight, he was so upset with Gabriel. After Michael was no longer around to forbid them… others soon joined Gabriel in his journeys away from home.” A cool breeze blows through the forest and once again Dean shivers. He motions at Castiel to continue his story even as he moves to stand and begin searching for his clothes. 

“I was always too wary to join them.” Castiel quietly admits as he moves to stand too. “Balthazar used to tease me, saying I was being ridiculous. He spoke fondly whenever he returned from their trips. He enjoyed telling me about how the humans lived. He taught me their language and begged me to join him on one of his ventures, but I never felt personally compelled to do so. I like the forest.” He absently runs a hand across the bark of a tree as he says so. “I never understood why they would ever want to leave it.” 

Dean finishes pulling his shirt over his head before he smiles kindly. “I don’t think you’re ridiculous, Cas.” He plops down onto his bottom and starts to pull on his leather boots. 

“No?” Castiel finally moves to shift his tunic back on.

“No.” He smiles down at where he’s carefully lacing up his boots. “A little weird sometimes, maybe. But a good kind of weird, you know? And it’s not a bad thing to want to stay home, not if you like it here.” 

 

“…Thank you, Dean.” The amount of gratitude he hears in the quiet voice catches him by surprise, and he glances up. 

Once again, the young boy is caught completely off-guard by what meets his eyes. 

It’s not the kind and gentle, appreciative look on the others face that surprises him. Nor is it the close proximity the other had once again managed to achieve without him hearing it. What does, in fact, catch him with astonishment, is the golden glow that the nymph is once again emitting, much brighter than he’d ever seen it before. 

And the soft, barely-there, glint of shimmering light stretching out behind him, blending nearly unperceivably with the afternoon sunlight around them.

Dean thinks he makes a noise. Something between the sound of the air evacuating his lungs and a long drawn-out, excited whimper. 

Castiel tilts his head, eyes sharp with sudden confusion and concern. “Dean?”

The human doesn’t answer him right away. Instead he stumbles up off the ground, not once taking his eyes off of the nymph in front of him. He doesn’t even think to blink, so enamored he is with the dancing glow that shimmers in movement when Castiel takes a hesitant step back.

“Dean, you are worrying me. Why won’t you speak?” 

Dean lifts a hand, lightly grasping the nymph’s wrist so he won’t back away any further. He forces his mouth open, forces words onto his tongue, even while he still tries to circle around to get a better look at Castiel’s back. “Cas…Cas, do you- do you have… _wings?_ ” He breathes out, barely a whisper, as if his lungs have lost the ability to hold proper air. 

 

Castiel’s eyes widen and he looks over his shoulder in a panic. As soon as his eyes catch on the slightly visible manifestation of light behind him, his body tenses and he pulls at Dean’s hold on his arm. 

 

Dean’s hand tightens and his attention finally pulls away from the others back, to his face. “Cas? Cas wait, what’s wrong?” The nymph is stronger then he expects and he fumbles to hold onto his twitching arm with both hands. “Just stop, please-” He quickly changes his hold to grab at his shoulders and he struggles to look him in the eyes as he shouts, “Cas!”

 

The nymph suddenly pauses, panting short breathes as he answers. “My twine! My twine is gone. I need to find more!” He thrusts a bare wrist into the humans face between them for emphasis and Dean distantly remembers that Cas had wore a similar type of vine like the one on his forehead on his wrist and ankle when he’d first met him. Both of which were now gone.

 

He doesn’t know what it means, but it’s distressing the nymph and all he can think of to say as the other yanks out of his grasp is “Okay! Okay, we’ll find them!” He glances widely at the ground, trying to catch a glimpse of where they could have fallen. 

All he hears is, “No, they’re gone, we need to find more!” And when he looks up, Castiel is gone. He stares at the spot where the nymph had stood not two seconds ago and he instantly panics.

“Cas?!” He recalls the way the other had disappeared without a trace before, weeks ago, and he’s terrified that the other has left him again. “Cas, where are you?!” He shouts, turning in a wide circle in the empty clearing by the waterside.


	4. A Thread of Twine

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just as he’s about to fall into a full-blown panic, his ears catch the sound of a faint reply.

“This way, Dean.” Comes the familiar voice, distantly trailing from within the tree’s shade. He sighs in relief and races to finish tying his other boot, tripping twice in his haste to run into the forest.

He wanders in the direction that he’d heard Cas’ call for a few minutes, wide eyes searching every surrounding detail. “Cas?” He calls again.

“I am over here, Dean.” He follows the soft timber again, winding around wide trunks and over jutting roots until finally, _finally_ , he catches sight of his friend once again.

Castiel is half-up a wide tree, looking much too at ease while balancing precariously on a small indent in the trunk’s form. He’s nimbly picking at a space between the tree’s bark, not bothering to grace Dean with even a glance. The picture is probably the closest Castiel has ever come to looking like the mythical creatures from the stories of old; all covered in a golden light, with the see-through maybe-wings still glinting beautifully behind him while so at-home in the tree tops.

“What are you doing?” The question leaves him on impulse at the odd behavior, but instead of waiting for an answer, he huffs and picks up a pinecone by his feet, and chucks it at the nymph. “What’s wrong with you?!” The pinecone bounces with a dull thud by the other’s head and Castiel pauses his ministrations to finally look down at the human.

His face is a mixture of confusion, surprise, and annoyance. “Why are you throwing things at me?”

“Because I’m mad at you!” Dean huffs again, “You can’t just do that!” He picks up a second pinecone and chucks again, though he does make sure to aim off-course of actually hitting Cas. The same irritated furrow starts to cross the nymph’s face, just like it had before when Dean had ordered him not to ‘sneak up’ on him. He really seems to have issue with being given any sort of command. Dean rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, you know what I mean.” He bites his lip in an attempt to calm himself down, to smother that sting of irrational anger that creeps up in his throat after a quick bout of unnecessary fear.

He breathes deeply twice before he squares his shoulders and forces himself to speak calmly, much like he would to Sammy if he needed to teach his brother a lesson without upsetting him. “Cas, please, can you try to stop disappearing on me like that? It makes me worry.”

Cas stares down at him for a second, an odd inquisitive look on his face, before he turns back to the tree again. After a few seconds, he quietly voices “My apologies. I never meant to cause you unease.”

Dean nods and walks forward until he’s standing just underneath the nymph. “What are you doing?” He asks again.

“I told you, I needed to find more twine.” Castiel looks like a small lantern now underneath the shade of the trees.

“Why?” He actually kind of likes having Castiel above him. Now he can observe his friend with open curiosity. “And why do you suddenly have wings?” Is his more immediate concern.

Castiel just keeps lightly digging at the space between the bark until he finds what he’s searching for. Gently, he coerces a small woven vine out from where it’s buried in the tree’s trunk. He glances at Dean from the corner of his eye before looking back at his task. “It is somewhat difficult to keep my physical form for long periods of time. I had not realized how much energy I had used up earlier at the pool’s edge.”

Dean searches for any type of foot or handhold and when he finally finds it, the barest of depresses in the bark, he heaves himself up. He slips and catches himself a few times, grunting and groaning all throughout, until eventually he’s within reaching distance. Castiel assesses his feeble hold and how Dean’s going red in the face with the effort it’s taking to keep himself in place. He sighs. He climbs a foot higher, closer to the lowest hanging branch on the massive tree, takes hold of it and then holds his hand out below him for Dean to take.

Dean eyes the outstretched hand for a moment, feeling a little putout, but nonetheless he accepts the offered help. Castiel pulls the human up without any trouble until Dean can scramble up the last bit of the way and cling onto the thick branch, stomach down and all four limbs wrapped around it. He hates heights, He breathes heavily, and toothily grins down at the nymph. “So-hah-, are you saying that-hah-…you actually have wings?”

Castiel absently nods, attention once again diverted to the vine he’s slowly drawing from the tree.

“So what are the weeds for?”

Castiel shakes his head. “It is not a weed, Dean. It is a vine. Precisely, it is a root part of an air plant, one that this tree will not miss, for it feeds off of the tree’s nutrients and may one day grow large enough to kill it.” The long vine breaks, and Castiel hands the two-foot string up to Dean to hold before he sets to work pulling at another. “I believe your people may call it-”

“Angel’s twine!” Dean cuts in happily. “My mother’s used this before to make decorations! She made Joanna-Beth a crown of flowers with this at our village’s last festival.” He shakes the golden-brown twine in hand for emphasis, proud at himself for remembering.

Castiel stares at him for a few seconds before he lightly pulls a second root from the bark. Dean helpfully holds them while Cas passes them up.

“ _So_?” Dean whines impatiently. “Boring plant. Mysterious wings of light. What’s the connection?”

Castiel smiles at the boy’s eagerness. When he has five roots in total, he swings up to sit in front of Dean on the branch. Dean shifts so they both sit facing each other, straddling the wide branch. He can’t help but use his hands to pull himself closer, ignoring the twist of vertigo that’s threatening to distract him.

Castiel watches curiously as Dean reaches out and hesitantly places his palm upon his cheek. Dean can feel his hand warm the slightest bit where he touches the glowing skin. “What does it feel like?” He asks.

Castiel tilts his head and Dean’s hand follows the movement. “You are asking a lot of questions.”

“Can you blame me? This is cool. And you’re not answering any of them.” He accuses even as he smiles and moves closer. “Can I touch them?” He motions to the wings and they twitch behind him in response.

With Cas so close, he can see that there are two pairs of long thin golden wings stretching up, and two shorter ones stretching down. They remind him of a dragonfly’s. If dragonflies had amazing see-through wings made of beautiful golden light.

Castiel looks down at his hands where they lay twisted in his lap. “I do not know if you meant my wings, or my light, but they do not ‘feel’ like anything. They are a part of my being. It is like asking what your skin feels like upon your hand.” At that, he gently reaches up and pulls Dean’s hand away from his face. He holds the boy’s hand between his for a moment before he lets go in favor of grabbing his other, and takes the vines from his grip.

He holds the vines out in front of him to draw Dean’s attention. “Angel’s twine works on me, much like it does the trees of the forest.” He makes dean grab one end of the stringed roots to keep them in place, and begins gingerly interweaving them into two tight thin braids. “Anael, the water nymph I spoke of before, taught me this. They help anchor me to a physical form, so I do not accidently meld back with the forest.”

“So, what? It’s going to eat all your nutrients or something?” Dean asks with wide concerned eyes. Castiel chuckles.

“No, Dean. It may continue to live while feeding off of my being, but it will not harm me. Unlike with the tree, it is more of a mutual benefit. While I keep it alive after it has been plucked, it simply ties down the part of me that wishes to blend back into the forest.” He finishes the braid with a gentle but firm knot, tugging to make sure it’s secure. “The more twine I wear, the more secure my physical form is. The less likely I am to…’disappear on you’.” He smiles slyly and Dean blushes, glancing away for a moment. “Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Dean nods quickly, taking Castiel’s lesson for word whether or not he truly understands it, and he holds his breath in obvious anticipation. Castiel’s answered all of his questions except for the most important one.

This time it’s Cas’ turn to blush lightly. He ducks his head the slightest bit, even as he puffs out his chest in bravado. “Yes, I suppose …you may touch them. Though, I doubt you can feel them. They do not exist as--”

He’s cut off as Dean excitedly scoots even closer and shoots his hands out to feel the nymph’s wings. Castiel gasps in surprise and leans back but it goes unnoticed by the eager young human. Dean grabs Castiel’s left shoulder for support and with his right stretches and stretches until he can attempt to run a soft fingertip along the tip of one ridge.

Dean’s shocked when his finger falls _through_ where the wing should be. “It’s not only see-through, it’s feel-through, too!” He gasps excitedly, and then stammer’s when he realizes that he doesn’t think that’s a real term. “I-It’s…I don’t know the word for it, but you know what I mean.” He summarizes dazedly, enthralled with his activity. He can feel _where_ he’s touching the wing. But he can’t actually feel the appendage. It’s warm, and his whole hand starts to tingle with an odd but pleasant sensation.

He pulls back a few inches and chimes a laugh when he catches sight of Castiel’s tomato-red face. Castiel pouts and pointedly looks away.

“Oh Cas, don’t be like that. I’m not making fun of you.”

“I did not assume you were.” Cas slowly turns back until he can look Dean in the eyes. With a small smile and a lifted eyebrow, he throws Dean’s earlier question back at him. “What does it feel like?”

Dean huffs another laugh before leaning forward again and lightly traces the outline of the glinting wing. “It feels like…sunlight.” He fathoms, wondrously. “Like warm sunlight on a mid-summer’s day, right after you finish swimming in a cool waterbed.” His words bring up memories of only the few hours previous, playing in the secluded lagoon of crystal clear water.

He leans back the slightest bit to grin at Cas again as he continuously trails his hand up and down the body of golden light. “Cas…this really has been the greatest day of my life.”

A shiver runs up his back at Dean’s movements and Castiel closes his eyes with a gentle smile, content. “I am very happy to hear that, Dean.” He peeks one eye open again to look at the smiling freckled face. “…Though, you are still very young. You have many more days yet to come.”

“Well, that’s the plan, at least.” Dean smiles. It takes Castiel a few seconds to comprehend his meaning and suddenly his wings lower behind him and the contented smile droops. Dean doesn’t notice it as he pulls Castiel in, being careful of the wings despite their not-there-ness, and hugs Castiel around the tops of his shoulders. “Can I tell you something Cas?” He quietly asks.

The nymph slowly responds to the hug and wraps his arms around the human’s waist. “Of course, Dean.”

“I know I’ve only known you for a little while…” he mumbles out, purposefully keeping the hug in place so Castiel can’t see his face while he speaks, “…but I think you might actually be my best friend.”

Dean’s face blushes wildly at the admission. Castiel doesn’t quite grasp the importance of the title, much less the workings of friend hierarchy to a child, but he does understand the words ‘best’ and ‘friend’, and he feels a warm feeling of his own bubble in his chest and he grips the sides of the human tighter in response.

Castiel wants to return the sentiment. In all honesty, Dean would similarly be the best of friends to him, too. But… Dean is also his _only_ friend. And he doesn’t want to admit that out loud.

After a minute passes by, Dean leans back and Castiel hesitantly lets go of the human’s hug.

“You’re glowing brighter.” Dean says. He takes the braided Angel’s twine from Castiel’s hand and lifts them. “You need to put these on before you float away or something, right?” He toothily grins.

He takes Castiel wrist and starts looping one around it. “Like this?”

“Yes, Dean. That’s fine.” Dean knots one braid around one wrist and then ties the second around Castiel’s other. He breathes out slowly and then glances up. Much to his expectation and disappointment, he can visibly see Castiel’s wings quickly fade away into nothingness and his bright aura of light dampen to a dim glow. Before an entire minute passes, Castiel is back to looking nearly human. But that’s okay. Dean is perfectly content with just being with Castiel; majestic glowing wings of light or not.

Castiel smiles fondly at him until Dean suddenly blinks and glances around them. With Castiel’s light suddenly gone, it’s very apparent how quickly sundown is approaching. “I have to head home.” Dean mutters solemnly. He doesn’t want the day to be over, but he knows he cannot risk getting into trouble again.

 

Castiel helps him with his descent down from the tree and begins leading him with an errant ‘come hither’ motion over his shoulder. Their steps are quick as they make their way through the forest, but the trip is comfortable, if not tinged with a small shade of bitterness on Dean’s part. It happens whenever he’s faced with leaving somewhere that he is not ready to depart from yet, but he’s old enough now to realize that there is no use in pouting over it. It just means that he’ll have to wait for another day to return.

“...Well, at least I have something to work with now.” Dean mentions absently as he jumps over a fallen thin tree.

Castiel glances back at him from a few steps ahead. “What do you mean? What are you ‘working’ with?”

Dean snorts and jogs the few steps to catch up with the other. “Your family, Cas! Now I have a place to start searching.”

Castiel’s step, for the first time Dean has ever seen, falters. His head tilts and his eyes widen in a blow of surprise. “What?” the word sounds punched out of him. “You think you may… Where.” On the last word, his voice grows slightly harder, his eyes squint into what looks like, to Dean’s bafflement, suspicion. “Dean. Tell me where.” He steps closer and Dean holds his hands up in surprised defense.

“I don’t mean that I know where they are. Y-you said that they were talking to humans before they disappeared right?” He doesn’t wait for Castiel to answer. “Well, we keep tales of practically everything. And if your people really were talking to mine then, well, …I’d bet an entire week’s worth of bread that we have a mention of it somewhere in the maiden’s old books or songs.” He smiles gently, hoping to encourage Castiel’s calming down.

Castiel’s takes a step back and, though he’s frowning, his shoulders start to relax. “You think your village may have a clue as to where they went?”

Dean nods excitedly. “I just have to search around. I’m sure I could probably find something somewhere. Or at least, I hope so.”

Castiel turns to continue walking. “I… would hope so too. But Dean, I was attempting to tell you earlier, I have no idea if that would have any relevance to their disappearance. It is only the last major dispute I remember hearing about before they began to go missing. There were many rules before that, that were broken. The nymphs…they grew bored very easily. And I believe this was long before your village was even created.”

Dean hums, thoughtful. “Well, it won’t hurt to look. I mean, you’ll never get any closer to finding them if we don’t start searching.”

Castiel smiles at him, a small lip-twitch of a thing. He nods once in agreement. “I suppose you are right. Thank you, Dean. It would mean a lot to me. I hope your search turns out to be fruitful.”

Dean smiles back. “No problem, Cas.” He almost comments on the fact that Cas keeps using odd words again, but he doesn’t. It’s kind of cool that Castiel uses words that none of his friends ever do, and he doesn’t want to appear any less smart to the nymph than he already has. Castiel is so interesting and …well, amazing. He wants Castiel to always look at him the way he is right now, in this instant, instead of how some of the adults back in the village do when he fails to grasp at their lessons and teachings.

“I just hope…” Castiel mutters, once they cross the small stream, marking to Dean that they are nearing the main path to the village, “That it turns out that they have wandered off due to their growing disinterest in our home. It will hurt, knowing that they left without informing me, but I would much rather have that outcome then…” He trails off for a moment, voice wavering. He picks back up after a beat of silence. “Then it turn out to be that something…bad has happened.”

Dean’s stomach grows heavy. It was always a major possibility, but he hadn’t really considered that Cas’ family just might be… _dead_. He hasn’t had any personal touches with death, but he knows that it is something that can be waiting around every other corner. Several villagers have died suddenly from disease or accidents over the years, none that Dean was ever personally close to, but he does know that it happens.

But the possibility of waking up one day and everyone you ever knew was suddenly just _gone_ , with no idea of whether they were alive or not…Dean doesn’t know how Cas has made it this long. He doesn’t think he’d be able to do it.

“Don’t worry, Cas. I’m sure we’ll find them.” Dean places a soft hand on his shoulder. Castiel doesn’t comment.

They make it to the white-pebbled path just as the sun is dropping off below the land’s horizon. Just as before, Castiel stops a few feet from the tree line’s edge, and Dean stops too. “Hey, Cas… so I’m going to try to come out here again soon. Is that okay?” He ventures, afraid that Castiel might choose to chastise him again in that unwelcomingly way like he had that morning.

But instead his fears are put to rest when Castiel gives him a pleasant, almost excited, look. “That would be fantastic, Dean.”

Dean grins. “Good. But, my father… he might be returning soon. And when he does, I don’t know how often I’ll be able to sneak out into the woods. It might be weeks from now… but it also may be days. We never know.”

Castiel’s smile lessons the slightest bit but he still nods. “I understand. You are not supposed to be here.”

“Exactly. But that’s not going to stop me, okay?”

“…Okay.”

“Alright.” Dean smiles one last time, and claps a friendly hand to Castiel’s shoulder before he turns to start walking away. He doesn’t make it more then a few feet though when Castiel calls out to him.

“Dean, wait!” He turns and spots the nymph inching towards him, eyes glancing up and down the empty trail. He hesitantly takes a step out onto the path and grabs Dean’s wrist before pulling him back to the dirt’s edge.

“What is it, Cas?”

“I should not be showing you this, but…” Castiel bites his lip for a second, contemplating, before he apparently makes a decision. He bends down to the ground and swipes his hand along the dirt in front of them, clearing it of any fallen dead leaves. Dean bends down too, curious as to what the nymph suddenly wants to show him.

“It is dangerous for you to come wandering into the woods on your own. Especially without me there to protect you.” He takes a finger and starts drawing something in the dirt.

Dean rolls his eyes, though he does feel his face heat a bit at Cas’ words. “Cas, I don’t need you to look out for me. I can handle being on my own.”

Castiel spares him one flat glare. “I am sure those coyotes from earlier would agree with you.”

Dean splutters, but Castiel doesn’t wait for him to respond. “Dean, please. Do not go wandering around in the forest on your own. Not if you can help it.”

“Then how will-?”

“This.” Castiel finishes drawing something in the dirt. Dean looks down and it’s some weird design he has never seen before. “It is something of Gabriel’s creation. He made it to help Michael draw the nymph’s to attention whenever he wished to speak with them. If you ever wish for my presence…draw this.”

The sign looks like a half triangle and half a sun put together. It is odd, but not anything Dean would have trouble remembering. “How is this going to help me find you?”

Cas taps the dirt twice. “I can hear it. It is like a beacon. And with no nymph’s left to use it, I know that if I hear it, it will be you calling me.”

Dean tilts his head, memorizing the odd sign for everything he’s worth. He has no idea how a little drawing can make something Cas can hear, but between the glowing balls and sunlight wings, he’s not going to doubt him. If Castiel believes it will work, then Dean will believe him. “Alright, Cas. If you say so.” Castiel gently smiles at him, pleased.

A cool breeze breaks through the clearing and it has Dean rushing to say his goodbyes. It’s not as hard to do a second time around though, not when Dean feels like this time he just may have some certain way of contacting his friend again.

 

Dean pauses at his village’s walls for a bare second, looking back. He can’t help the happy spark that runs up his spine when he barely makes out Castiel’s form still standing off in between the distant tree’s. It only lasts for a second though, because when he blinks again, the nymph is gone. Dean snorts, shakes his head in wonder one last time for the evening, and turns to run home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


End file.
